


Unbroken

by Hanna



Series: Prompt fics [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M, Repression, Sexual Abuse, kinkmeme prompt, recovering from sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanna/pseuds/Hanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11065.html?thread=23569465#t23569465</p><p>Written for ^^ prompt.</p><p>"Training session after session ends with Thor pinned under his tutor, until one day, instead of stepping back after putting Thor on the ground to let him get back up, he holds him there by the throat, staring into his eyes almost hungrily for a long moment, until Thor feels something start to creep through him. Only after he starts squirming uncomfortably does he allow him to get up, but he doesn’t take his eyes off him for the rest of the session."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbroken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [telm_393](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telm_393/gifts).



> Written for this (http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11065.html?thread=23569465#t23569465) kinkmeme prompt from the lovely telm_393 (http://telm-393.livejournal.com/)
> 
> I have not experienced sexual abuse personally, so I apologise if I get it wrong.

When Thor has five centuries, he starts official weapons training. Not that he doesn’t already know how to fight, mind, but he’s received his first real sword for his name day and is sent off to a private tutor, full of confidence that he knows how to use it. He is a Prince of Asgard; the Heir; he is not going to be defeated.

The first thing his tutor does is laugh at him.

Thor lunges at him.

No matter how hard he tries, he cannot get anywhere near him, and ends up on the ground, utterly defeated. Only then does he start actually teaching him how to use it properly.

Session after session ends the same way, until one day, instead of stepping back after putting Thor on the ground to let him get back up, he holds him there by the throat, staring into his eyes almost hungrily for a long moment, until Thor feels _something_ start to creep through him. Only after he starts squirming uncomfortably does he allow him to get up, but he doesn’t take his eyes off him for the rest of the session.

It doesn’t happen the next session, and Thor puts it out of his mind.

Then one day he stands right behind Thor, breathing onto his neck, towering over him, and Thor shuffles uncomfortably. When a hand comes to rest low on his hip he moves sharply away.

“My apologies, little prince,” he says, a gleam Thor cannot place in his eyes, and Thor feels the same something press on him as he leaves the training ring.

It isn’t until a year later, a year in which Thor isn’t able to forget his hungry stare and the possessive hands with which he adjusts his grip and holds him steady if he needs the support, that he is pinned and kissed by his tutor.

Shock freezes Thor where he lies for a second and then he shoots to his feet, shaking.

“I am sorry, little prince,” he says with his greasy smile. “I had assumed you wanted it- you never stopped me, after all.” A hand comes to settle on his wrist and Thor cannot make himself pull away, just shaking his head mutely. This man could flip him on his back and keep him there just by sitting on him, he knows, has taught him all he knows about weaponry and fighting, and he owes him.

He can forget the kiss. Now he knows his advances are unwelcome, he’ll stop, surely.

But those hungry, shadowed eyes never stop following him.

XX

When Sif announces her intention to become a warrior, Thor laughs. But she takes it in stride and proceeds to trip him up and pin him to the ground.

She is strong, but Thor is stronger. There is no reason for his breath to catch in his chest and for him to stiffen beneath her. Concerned, she gets up and he can’t look her in the eye as he scrambles to his feet, shaking.

“I’ll… talk to Father,” he manages, and bolts.

XX

“Lady Sif wishes to train as a warrior.” Thor’s words are strong, his voice steady, but Loki notices that his hands are shaking. His eyes narrow slightly. “I will support her.” Father gazes at him for a moment, and Loki sees his lips thin as his hands shake harder under the scrutiny.

“Very well,” he finally says and Loki is sure that Thor’s sigh of relief is from more than just having his request approved.

XX

Loki cloaks himself in the shadows to watch the next training session, but sees nothing out of the ordinary. Thor is wary and tense around his tutor, but his tutor is beating the living daylight out of him- perhaps he is finally learning some sense.

But he cannot forget the fear in Thor’s eyes, faint but clearly present, when Father pinned him with his gaze. He resolves to hunt further, dig deeper. He watches more training sessions, and again, no more than usual happens, but he focuses on the tutor rather than Thor this time.

He cannot miss his predatory eyes as they trace over his brother’s developing muscles, fixing hungrily on him. His eyes narrow and he vanishes without a trace.

XX

Thor is wary around his tutor, afraid, though he cannot quite say why. He is tentative, and often scolded for inattention because he watches him rather than his weapon, unwilling to lose himself in the moment just in case. Just in case of what, he wonders, and has no answer for himself.

He forces himself to concentrate on training, and when he has done particularly well sees his tutor’s eyes glitter, and shudders.

One session he has kept his feet under the assault and has even managed a few hits back, and his tutor is very pleased. He approaches, closer and closer, until he finds himself backing into a wall, gripping his weapon in suddenly shaking hands.

“You’re doing well, little prince,” he whispers, greasy voice sliding into the pit of Thor’s stomach and resting heavy. “So well.” He strokes his hair and he is frozen, unable to pull away as he places his hands on his hips, holding him firmly in place. Thor stares wide eyed up at him. “There’s just one more thing I want you to do for me, and then you can go, ok?” Swallowing on a suddenly dry throat, Thor nods. His tutor’s hands rise from his hips and twine in Thor’s. He brings them down to his belt, and Thor finds his voice.

“No,” he whispers, voice cracking, and his tutor chuckles.

“If you don’t, I’ll stop training you,” he says, and Thor cannot help but think that is a good thing. “And I’ll tell the Allfather of your inattention.” He freezes. Father will not assign him another tutor if he thinks him ungrateful. Slowly, reluctantly, he nods.

“Good boy,” he purrs, and he shudders with revulsion as he undoes his belt and pulls out his cock. “Just stroke it, that’s a boy, that’s my little prince.” His eyes are closing and his voice slipping into ecstasy as he murmurs into Thor’s ear. He grabs his hand and directs them until Thor is doing it on his own and he comes with a shout.

“You may go, little prince,” he says after a moment, and Thor looks at his stained hands and shudders, shame and disgust flooding him. He flees.

XX

After that, everything changes.

Every session he watches him warily for any hints that he will suddenly swoop down and force him to do it again, but he is utterly unpredictable. He learns to recognise the signs of desire, the sharp attention on his every move, the half lidded expression, and steels himself on those days, praying to the Norns that at least it’ll be quick and he can get to his room and fall in his bath and try to scrub it all away.

He is a nervous wreck, though he tries so hard to hide it, but he catches Loki looking at him sideways and finds himself shaking again. He avoids his brother, unwilling to reveal his shame, unable to face him. But sometimes the nightmares overwhelm him and he finds himself crawling into his room, into his bed, and Loki lets him huddle against his back for comfort and does him the courtesy of not mentioning it in the morning.

He hadn’t thought it possible, but it gets worse when his tutor forces him to his knees and presents himself to him expectantly.

“Suck it,” he orders, and Thor backs away slowly, frantically shaking his head and pleading with his eyes. He grabs his hair to stop him.

“I said, suck it,” he snarls, and Thor, trembling helplessly, opens his mouth with a dry sob.

“Don’t cry, little prince,” he taunts him from above, thrusting into the back of his throat and making him gag and wretch. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t bite, you brat!” He yanks at his hair and he whimpers. He thrusts harder.

“Oh, good boy,” he whispers, and Thor can feel he is close. All he wants to do is crawl into a ball and cry, drink mead until he can’t taste him anymore and scrub himself until he feels clean, but he forces himself to keep sucking. He spills right into his mouth and holds him on his knees until he swallows the lot, sobbing pathetically.

“You may go, little prince,” he says, a purr of approval in his voice, and Thor climbs slowly to his feet, shaking uncontrollably, barely able to make it to his rooms in time before he collapses into his bath and summons his servants to fill it.

XX

It says something that he becomes used to it, grows to expect it and does it without complaint. Still, when he is pinned under his tutor his flesh crawls and he just wants to flee, and his hungry gaze makes him shrink into himself.

But sooner or later he expects more, and after one session doesn’t let Thor up, yanking his pants down one handed as he struggles against the invasion, unable to break his grip.

“No,” he whispers. “Please, no.”

He ignores him.

XX

He jolts awake from a nightmare when his bed shifts and flinches away with a whimper before he realises it is Loki and tries to calm his ragged breathing. Loki gazes down at him, his eyes calculating, staring past his defences, knowing entirely too much, and Thor knows that look. He shudders and pulls his furs around himself and hopes this is a dream.

In the morning, he has half convinced himself it was.

XX

He doesn’t have to put up with the tutor much longer. He dies in an accident that Thor isn’t so sure is an accident, and when Loki gazes at him he is sure he knows his shame, that he arranged for it to be done. He’s almost grateful.

His new tutor cannot understand why such a talented warrior is so wary, and in time Thor viciously shoves that part of his childhood down and tries to forget. He pushes himself farther than ever before, desperate to prove to his father that he is more than his last tutor thought of him, to prove to himself that he is able to hold his own. He refuses to let himself remember the days before, and finds he cannot remember half the stories his parents tell about him as well as the training sessions.

Nightmares that someone is looming over him and he cannot breathe plague him.

XX

There are two Avengers who can fly.

Which is great- eyes in the sky and all- but when Tony’s suit has been taken from him and Thor is in the next room (which has a window on their side, but clearly not on Thor’s), Bruce is out cold and Steve’s best punches have failed to even remotely dent the window, he really wishes he could fly through the damn thing, because Thor clearly has no idea where the team is and is searching for them, his head craning here and there, clutching Mjolnir as if she is his lifeline, and he can’t tell him they’re (mostly) ok.

It only gets worse when Loki saunters in.

“Brother,” he announces with a gleam in his green eyes, and Thor’s eyes snap around to him.

“Brother! Where are my comrades?” he asks, and Loki’s eyes glitter.

“Don’t worry about them, little prince,” he croons. Steve has heard Loki call Thor many things, but not this. He’d assume it to be just another cruel nickname and pay it no mind if Thor didn’t freeze at it, mouth gaping open, fear flashing in his eyes, Mjolnir crashing to the ground at his side.

Steve cannot contain a shout, Natasha’s face goes scarily blank, Clint drops into a fighting crouch and Tony instinctively raises his gauntletless hand. The sound, however, apparently only goes one way, for Thor remains staring, pale and slack jawed, at Loki.

“They’re safe,” Loki continues, moving too close to Thor, and he shrinks back. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Br-” he stutters, unable to finish the word. “Loki… please…” Loki’s smile is vicious and Thor shrinks back.

“Fight me, Thor,” he snarls. “Pay attention.” His hand snaps out and Thor catches his wrist instinctively. “You can do better than this, little prince. FIGHT!” Thor shouts wordlessly, throws himself at Loki, and goes right through his illusion. He hits the ground and Loki appears behind him, gripping the back of his neck, and he freezes.

“You fight me, Thor,” he snarls. “As if you owe me nothing! You owe me everything, _Brother_. Everything.” Steve trembles with rage and becomes aware that Bruce is awake when Hulk’s footsteps sound behind him, smashing into the floor, and he launches himself at the wall.

It doesn’t even shudder, and he realises this prison was custom built for them.

“You remember, don’t you? I know you have a short memory, but don’t pretend to have forgotten this. I remember you crawling into my bed to escape the nightmares. Whose bed do you crawl into now, brother?” Thor whimpers as he leans closer, breathes onto his neck.

“Loki, please,” Thor pleads, trying to twist from his grasp half-heartedly.

“Do you remember, Thor?” Loki continues, building up momentum. “Do you remember him holding you down, pushing you to your knees and forcing you to bow to his will, proud son of Odin? Do you remember?” His eyes are more than a little wild. Clint’s brow tightens at the words.

Thor doesn’t reply this time, just lies beneath him limply, his breath shuddering in and out of his chest and Steve wants to scream but he can’t take his eyes off the scene. Loki suddenly looks exhausted.

“Do you know what I did for you?” he asks, softly, caressing Thor’s cheek. “Because I couldn’t bear to see him hurt you?” Almost imperceptibly, Thor nods and curls his fingers around Loki’s.

“I know,” he says, so softly Steve can barely hear him. “I know, Loki.” Loki rests his forehead on Thor’s for a moment and rolls off him. He presses a kiss to his cheek and then everything vanishes.

XX

Steve’s panicking, but they’re back at Stark Tower, in the living room, and Loki is nowhere to be seen. Thor is lying on a couch, under a blanket, head on a pillow, and he wonders how- and why- Loki would do that for him. Why he’d be so cruel as to say those things, then to send them back unharmed…

It makes his head hurt to think about. Right now he just wants to go to Thor and find out if he’s ok.

“Don’t,” Clint says suddenly as he reaches out to touch his shoulder and shake him. He stops and looks at him. “Trust me.” He sits by Thor’s head and speaks softly.

“Hey, buddy,” he says. “We’re home.” Thor opens his eyes and they are so full of pain that it physically hurts to watch. He lashes out suddenly and Clint is in front of him, taking it.

“Thor,” he says softly. “Don’t be scared. We’re here, we’ll protect you.” He looks around wildly, terror in his eyes, and his gaze returns to Clint. He grabs at him, and Clint lets him, lets him grip his wrists hard until Steve is sure they’ll bruise. Thor takes several deep, calming breaths and memory comes back into his eyes. He lets go of Clint, looking horrified.

“Hey,” Clint smiles. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Thor tenses as Clint touches his shoulder lightly, but nods and rises shakily to his feet. Natasha moves quietly into place on his other side and together the assassins escort him out.

Steve looks at Bruce and Tony.

“What was that about?” he asks. Tony just shrugs and Bruce’s eyes are horrified but he doesn’t say anything.

XX

“I can only guess from what Loki said and how Thor reacted,” Clint says later once Thor is asleep. “But I think Thor was abused. Sexually.” Steve gasps.

“By who?” he breathes. “When?” Clint can only shrug, and that is when they hear a crash from Thor’s room. They run to him and Steve is the first to see that he has fallen off the bed and is crouching, his arms fastened around his knees, rocking back and forth compulsively, sobbing like a child.

“Ssh,” Steve says as he approaches, hands out to show that he means no harm to his friend. “Ssh.” Thor stares at him for a long moment, trying to place him, then takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Steve,” he says, and drops his gaze to the floor. In the doorway, Bruce clenches a green-tinted fist. Then he rises, goes back to bed and hides his face in his pillow, pulling the blanket tight around him and tucking the ends under himself, where Steve is sure he is gripping them tight.

Steve decides to stay with him that night.

XX

Thor comes out the next morning, pale and subdued but determined to pretend that nothing happened. He is too quiet to fool anyone, but when Steve opens his mouth to say something, Clint shoots him a look that shuts him up.

After breakfast he retires to the roof and doesn’t come down until nightfall.

XX

Not wanting to push and cause further damage, the Avengers let Thor pretend that all is well. He is quiet and shuns physical contact, but participates in the team bonding exercises and routines they’ve set up for themselves in the last year and a half. It isn’t until a villain manages to push him into a corner and starts laughing manically (Doom, of course) that he freezes and cannot move, barely keeping hold of Mjolnir.

Tony swoops in to the rescue, and he unfreezes slowly, but it is decided that he has to talk about it in case it happens again.

XX

“Thor,” Steve says, biting his lip, and Clint gives him a ‘be gentle’ look. “About what happened today?”

“My apologies,” Thor says, unable to look at them. “I failed you. It will not happen again.”

“Thor,” Tony says. “We’re worried about you.” His gaze flickers up, surprised and ashamed. “You’ve been so quiet, and that’s not like you.”

“You can tell us,” Clint says softly. “We won’t judge you. I promise.” The sharp look he gives Steve and Tony says ‘or else’. Bruce moves in on his other side.

“There’s nothing you could have done,” he says gently. Thor jerks violently away, shaking his head wildly, opening his mouth to deny it. “It’s not your fault, Thor.” He slumps at the table with a defeated sigh.

“It is,” he whispers. “I _let_ him.” He shudders, visceral disgust lacing his voice. Natasha shakes her head.

“You did not,” she says, firmly. “You were young, Thor-” Thor laughs hollowly.

“I am a Prince of Asgard. I shouldn’t have let him,” he repeats dully. Clint places a light hand on his arm and he tenses but doesn’t pull away.

“Thor, listen to me,” he says. “Look at me.” Almost shuddering, Thor does. “When I was in the circus, before I got involved with the Swordsman, some of the older boys decided to have a little fun.” This doesn’t look like news to Natasha, but the others startle. “When I got with the Swordsman, I pushed myself to become the best I could. I didn’t want to remember. But I couldn’t forget.” Clint is stiff, but his voice is almost clinical.

“It…” Thor swallows. “My fighting tutor.” He stares at Clint, as if he’s telling just him. “Kept saying he’d tell Father if I… tell Father about my inattention. I was afraid.” He draws his arms around him, Steve opens his mouth and Natasha flaps a hand at him to shut him up. Even Tony is quiet, glass of whiskey frozen halfway to his mouth. Thor is silent for a long time.

“What happened then?” Clint prompts, and Thor draws in a steadying breath.

“Loki,” he says. “He knew. I didn’t tell him, but he… he killed him. I had a new tutor.” Thor is shaking so hard that Clint offers his hand. He grasps it hard. “I couldn’t forget. Nightmares… haven’t had them in years. But…” he buries his face in Clint’s chest. Clint pats his back.

“I understand, Thor,” he says. “I understand.” It takes them a moment to realise that Thor is crying.

XX

“This happens here?” Thor asks later. Natasha nods.

“Yeah,” she says. “It does.” There is silence for a very long moment, during which both stare out the window.

“Has it happened to you?” She pauses before answering.

“Yeah,” she finally says. “It has.”

XX

For a long time Steve treads carefully around Thor until he finally gets sick of it. Bruce, Clint and Natasha treat him no differently and Tony refrains from joking about anything that might trigger him, but Steve is the only one who really changes his behaviour.

“Steve,” Thor says one day. “I am not broken.” Steve turns to him in surprise.

“Of course you’re not,” he says, frowning.

“Then stop acting as if I am,” he says. Steve frowns in confusion.

XX

He considers Thor’s words, and how he’s treated Thor lately- and realises he has been treating Thor as if he’s broken. He sighs.

“Sorry,” he says later. “How should I treat you?”

“The same as before,” Thor says. “I have not changed, Steve.”

And indeed he has not. He might be quieter but he’s no less enthusiastic about food or fighting. His drive hasn’t slowed at all, and he still trains as hard as ever- though Steve has a few disturbing ideas as to why that is now.

He grimaces.

“Sorry, Thor,” he says again. “I didn’t mean to treat you any differently.” Thor’s laugh is a low rumble and music to Steve’s ears. He hasn’t laughed a lot lately.

“I know,” he says. “Worry not.”

XX

Steve’s almost surprised when life gets back to normal. It’s movie night, he doesn’t know the movie (Daddy Daycare), Thor is asking questions (“Is it not a woman’s job to take care of the children?”), Clint and Natasha are snuggling close, Bruce is trying to explain to Thor why two men are babysitting children with little success and Tony is drinking as he translates the Klingon for Steve.

Steve doesn’t even think when he leans close to Thor and throws his arm over his shoulder.

“I don’t get it either,” he assures him. “But this is 21st century Earth, and I don’t get a lot of what happens here.” Thor’s laugh rumbles through his chest and Steve just then remembers why he’s avoided touching Thor. But he isn’t protesting, and he likes resting against Thor’s broad chest, so he keeps doing so.

Clint catches his eye and smiles at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and tell me what you think!


End file.
